Charismatic Mimic
by Ice Queen1
Summary: Scott is rescued by someone who is not at all what they seem.
1. Default Chapter

And I said, What about Breakfast at Tiffany's?

Ok, for me, this is possibly the worst feature I have ever written. But don't worry. The first page is always the worst. But I have a plan. A great big plan. Even if you flame, I'll be happy for the reviews. PLEASE! Oh PLEASE REVIEW!!!! J 

Disclaimer: Don't own them, they belong to Marvel, WB, and a bunch of other people. Beats me who. 

"I love the beach…the sand, the sun…" Jean Grey sighed happily as she stretched her arms above her in the bright mid morning sunlight. It was spring break, and everyone had headed to the beach, well, except for Professor Xavier and Wolverine. 

"I like the surf personally," Evan Daniels stated, breaking into a run towards the breakers, surfboard in hand. 

"Dude, don't hog the surf!" Kurt Wagner protested, sprinting after him. 

"Boys," Ororo Monroe sighed, rolling her eyes towards the clear blue sky. 

Jean, Kitty, and Rogue had already spread themselves out on the sand to get some rays. 

"Scott," Ororo turned towards the maturer one of the group. "Can you keep an eye out on Evan and Kurt while they're out there?"

"Sure thing. I was planning on it anyway," Scott nodded. 

"And what do you plan on doing about those glasses of yours?" Ororo asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Umm…" Scott started. "I'll see you in few hours!" he answered, and sprinted off after the other two. 

Ororo waved her hand absently at the retreating teen. She knew Scott was responsible enough to have a back up plan in case the glasses did fall off, though she doubted they would. Even if they did, there was no one around to witness it. The cove was entirely abandoned except for them. 

For once in her life, Storm was wrong. 

Scott, Kurt, and Evan raced out into the waves almost half a mile from the shore but still close enough to see the others. 

Scott sat on his board for a few minutes, just enjoying his time off in the sun and watching Kurt and Evan goof around. Kurt was the first to catch a wave and rode it almost to shore before wiping out. 

Scott laughed as he watched the furry blue form fly through the air and 'poof' into a cloud of smoke only to reappear on the beach. Kurt shook, slightly reminiscent of a wet dog, spraying salt water all over the girls. 

"AH! Kurt! You, like, totally ruined my magazine!" Kitty wailed, loud enough for both Evan and Scott to hear. 

As they laughed, Scott vaguely heard someone singing nearby. 

"And I said, what about _Breakfast at Tiffany's_?

She said I think I remember the film and as I recall

I think we both kinda liked it 

And I said well that's one thing we got…"

Scott peered over his shoulder towards the direction of the singing, but he didn't see anyone except for Evan and Evan couldn't sing that well. 

"Hey Evan, do you hear that?" Scott asked, sitting up on his surfboard in attempt to see over the large waves. 

"I was gonna ask you that," Evan replied, shrugging. He looked around as well. "I don't see anyone."

Scott shook his head. "Neither do I." He shot a glance at the shore and easily picked out Kitty, Jean and Rogue sunbathing on the white sand, and Storm was either underwater or somewhere out of sight. 

The waves were getting larger, and with satisfaction, both noted that the wind was picking up. The waves were near perfect, even though with much more wind they could become somewhat precarious to those riding them. Excellent.

Scott paddled out past the break point, stomach down on his surf board and carefully made a sharp one-eighty turn towards the beach. Craning his neck behind him, he waited for the next wave to appear on the horizon. Two passed, and then he saw it: almost seven feet high and building, as long as the horizon itself and no one near it. Scott grinned as it neared and began to paddle towards the shore to get momentum. Suddenly, he heard the voice again, much closer now and blended with femininity. Whoever it was, they were definitely a girl. 

"You say we've got nothing in common

No common ground to start from 

And we're falling apart

You'll say the world has come between us

Our lives have come between us and I know that you just don't care,"

He stood, riding the crest of the wave, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from when he suddenly realized that the sound was coming from _below _him. He glanced downwards and saw a copper blur speed by underneath him. He stared, thinking at first it was Jean by the color, but she was still on the beach. And whoever this was, they were _good_. Unnaturally so in fact. 

Scott was no longer paying attention to the waves, otherwise he would've noticed that it was growing larger, creating a picture perfect pipeline for the surfer beneath him. Suddenly, the blur shot upwards, surfing up the side of the wave in a perfect loop. Almost. The person was not aware she was almost directly below Scott and the fin from her board slammed into the bottom of Scott's, knocking him off balance and catapulting over the crest and into the ocean, head first. By some miracle, his glasses stayed on his face. As he somersaulted through the air, he was only slightly aware that the girl had disappeared under the water.

"Scott!" he heard Evan shout, right before the wave slammed down on him, shoving him below the surface. 

Disoriented already from being tossed like a rag doll through the air, Scott lost all sense of direction. He wasn't sure which way was up. 

Luckily, or unluckily, he didn't have to think about that for very long. The powerful current had swept him towards the shallows. 

With a sickening crack, Scott's skull collided with an underwater rock. Scott saw nothing more.

TBC…

Yeah, I know it's short. Yes, I know it's not all that great. But I'm tired. I'm not sure if I'm thinking coherently. Lalalalala. Oh well. All I ask is that you say _something_ about this. PLEASE???? I'm begging….I get violent if I don't get what I want….just food for thought. Have a nice day. Or night. Or whatever. 


	2. The Angel of Water

And I said, What about Breakfast at Tiffany's?

Okay, this chapter doesn't explain much, it's sort of a filler. But don't worry. The plot thickens….later. Next chapter will have a revelation, I swear. Don't forget to R&R! J I realize that this isn't true to history, but I don't care. 

Scott felt a pressure on his chest. _One, two, three, four, five_. He felt the air being forced into his lungs. Somehow he couldn't force himself to draw the life giving air himself. Five more compressions. Suddenly, his lungs seemed to start working again. Scott immediately choked on the seawater as it surged up the back of his throat. The unseen figure turned him gently over on his side as he continued to retch up the salty water. 

"Are you okay?" a soft voice asked. 

Scott rolled over on his back and opened his eyes. A girl was staring down at him, her damp copper hair cascading over her shoulder, her face framed in a golden halo from the sun. 

Scott tried his voice. "I feel like I died."

The girl smiled. "You almost did. You hit you're head on a rock when you wiped out. I guess that was because of me." She smiled impishly. 

Scott sat up and winced at the pain that lanced through his head. "You?"

"When I went down the pipeline, I went up higher than I meant to and my board smashed the bottom of yours. I didn't even see you there," the girl said, rocking back on her heels our of reach.

"My name's Scott. What's yours?" he asked, extending his hand. 

The girl eyed it cautiously. "Whatever you want to call me."

Scott cocked his head in confusion. "What?"

"I'm nothing more than fiction," the girl answered.

Before Scott could continue, he heard the others approaching fast. 

"Scott!" several voices called at once. 

Scott turned towards the sounds but whipped his head back to see a dark object swimming swiftly through the current. The girl was nowhere. 

Scott watched her go. She disappeared so suddenly, he was sure she was a dream. A figment of his imagination, that's what it was. Brought on by severe head trauma, he reasoned with himself. But he still couldn't shake the feeling of her. When she touched him, he felt something. Not an emotion, not even a real feeling. It was more of…lack _of_ feeling. Like he had been normal again, with no powers…no need for the protective glasses. Maybe she wasn't a figment…

"Scott! Are you okay?" Jean called frantically, bringing Scott out of his reverie. 

"Hmm?" he mumbled, looking up at the group. 

"What happened, man? I saw you wipeout and you didn't come up! I thought you drowned!" Evan exclaimed. 

"I hit my head on a rock," Scott explained, reflexively probing the large cut on the back of his head with his fingers. They came away red and sticky. 

"Eww! Like, gross!" Kitty gagged, turning away. 

"Let me see," Ororo said in a motherly tone, kneeling down next to Scott to see how bad it was. She clucked her tongue. "We're going to have to take you back to the institute. That is going to need to be cleaned out. You might even need stitches." To the group she announced, "Pack up. We're leaving. Maybe we can come back Wednesday."

A loud chorus of groans echoed her decision. 

"Then again, maybe I'll just make it rain for the entire week," Ororo threatened. 

The teens immediately fell silent. 

"Go get what you brought," Ororo ordered. To Scott she asked, "Can you walk?"

"I hurt my head. Not my feet," Scott replied. He stood and swayed slightly, but quickly regained his equilibrium, shaking the cobwebs away. 

Ororo just smiled and shook her head. She turned and walked away, knowing that even if she offered help, Scott wouldn't take it. 

Evan remained behind to watch. "Umm, Scott? Man, I'm sorry, but I couldn't find your board. I think it got smashed on the rocks or something," he apologized. 

"That's okay…I don't think I'll be using it anytime soon anyway." Scott waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry." Scott started forwards and almost fell over a surfboard at his feet. 

"I thought you said you couldn't find mine," Scott asked, turning towards Evan, holding the bored bottom facing his friend. 

"I didn't! And that's not yours either," Evan said. "Check out the decal on the bottom."

Scott flipped the board around and inhaled sharply at the picture. "Wow…"

It was a picture of an angel standing on a seaside cliff, her arms raised heavenwards at the angry dark rain clouds, the surf pounding the cliff as rain fell around the angel and just below the water, near the tip of the board, were red and blue flames licking at the sides.

"Looks like the Angel of Water, Sachiel," Evan observed. "See? She's praying that she will be saved from the fires of hell by the heavenly rain of life. But no one is listening."

Scott felt a sudden pang of sadness for the angel. "What did she do?

"I think she killed one of her own. But I'm not sure," Evan shrugged. "And she was banished from Heaven forever."

Several days later, Scott threw his books down in disgust. 

"Something wrong Scott?" the Professor asked, looking up from his book. 

"It's just that I can't forget her! I mean, she saved my life, and I didn't even thank her!" he said irritably. "That and the fact that I have a mountain of studying for finals."

"I can't help you with your homework, but why don't you go back to the beach? She might still be there. After all," the Professor smiled. "You still have her board. I think she might want it back."

Scott gave a slight morose laugh. "Maybe." He turned back to his books, but found it difficult to concentrate. "Are you _sure_ that you didn't get any mutant readings from Cerebro that day?"

"I'm positive Scott. And she can't mask her presence from him, unless she was using Magneto's helmet. Was she?" Xavier asked patiently. 

"No, but still…there was something strange about her. When she touched me, I didn't _feel_ my eyes the way I normally do. They seemed normal. _I_ seemed normal. Like she neutralized them or something," Scott explained. 

"Maybe it was that smack on your skull," Rogue added from the easy chair in the corner. 

"I thought you were listening to your headphones," Scott snapped back.

Rogue ignored his tone and smiled. "I was. But I paused it so I could hear the story of this amazing girl just _one_ more time."

Scott crumpled a piece of paper in his hand and launched it at her. 

When it dropped short by almost ten feet, Rogue's smile grew. "Just remember," she warned, " I know where you live."

"Who would've thought?" Scott mused, scribbling in his algebra notebook. 

"I heard that," Rogue replied. 

"You were supposed to."

"Scott! Rogue!" Xavier warned. "Stop it now." He turned to Scott. "What is the matter with you? You never act like this."

"Sorry Professor. I've just been a little stressed. That's all." Scott continued to do his homework as if nothing was wrong.

Before the Professor could continue, the doorbell rang. 

"I'll get it!" Kurt's voice echoed throughout the large mansion. 

Kurt threw the door wide open and his mouth almost dropped. 

Standing in the doorway was a girl, about sixteen, with long, wavy copper hair and a surfboard. The girl had a dancer's figure, tall and slender with a tanned complexion, every one of her fingers bore rings on each knuckle and wore a black tank top and cut off Levis. A silver pendant hung from her neck, a sapphire embedded in the pewter of the Celtic cross. Kurt couldn't tell the color of her eyes because they were hidden behind silver-mirrored glasses. 

"Hi," she said in a soft voice. She extended a hand. "My name is Amaya Sachiel…does Scott live here?"

Kurt nodded numbly. 

Amaya's cheeks reddened as if she were blushing. "Um…this might sound kinda strange, but I'm here to exchange his surfboard for mine. We sort of mixed up when we met on the beach."

Kurt finally managed a response, even if it wasn't very intelligent sounding. "You're the girl that almost killed him?"

PLEASE REVIEW! I enjoyed the other reviews some of you have left, and I hope you continue to do so. Thank you! 


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